


The Salt Anaesthetic

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [64]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joyce’s summer isn’t off to the best start, so Ethan prescribes a little beach therapy</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Salt Anaesthetic

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published June 15, 2005
> 
> Takes place during the summer between S6 and 7. The proper nouns are all because of [](http://mydeira.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mydeira.livejournal.com/)**mydeira**. I kind of forgot to use them . . . The title comes from the poem "Pretty Halcyon Days" by Ogden Nash

It was the beginning of a beautiful weekend, and Joyce was sitting at her desk paying bills. Somehow, it seemed appropriate. She rested her chin in her hand, staring through the doorway at the sunlight drifting into the nook, her other hand toying absently with the pen between her fingers, not really noticing either. Finally she sighed.

Rupert had been gone five weeks now, and there was no way of telling how much longer he would be away. Willow was being cooperative in her new training, but he described her mental state as fragile. Until that improved, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t snap again. So he stayed.

School had let out for the summer, and with it Tara had lost her place to live. With Rupert’s apartment standing empty during his absence, they had all deemed it most practical for her to move into his guest room and housesit for the summer. Already her touches were starting to become evident in the comfortable masculinity of the apartment, stepping on the sense of Rupert’s presence in the place, the warm muskiness of his scent being slowly replaced by potpourri and incense. Joyce didn’t go over there much anymore.

Buffy had grown so much more reserved since the shooting. No longer angst over her extraction from heaven, this was more about love and the things it drove people to. Seeing what her friend was capable of, the darkness she had been driven to out of love, had shocked her cold. But Joyce knew it was more. She had finally gotten her daughter to open up about her relationship with Spike, and what she learned astounded her. Joyce tried to keep an open mind, but the recitation of instance after instance of how the two of them had so callously used and abused each other was overwhelming. Once she started, Buffy seemed unable to stop until she had recounted every last instance, every denial and betrayal and cruelty, as though seeking absolution. But the only person able to give it to her was nowhere to be found.

“It’s no wonder he left,” Buffy said finally, tears running unnoticed down her cheeks. “I must have hurt him so badly.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure it wasn’t you.” Joyce pulled her close to curl her to her chest protectively. “After all, he was with Drusilla for all those years and never left her. And from what he told me, her beatings could get pretty brutal.”

“It’s not his body I’m worried about, Mom. I think I broke his heart.”

After that, Buffy seemed to go through her day a hollow ghost of her former self. She made noises about going back to school in the fall, but as far as Joyce knew, nothing had been done to make that plan a reality. Buffy still went about her slaying and visiting with her friends, but more often than not she could be found on the sofa, a book open but unread on her lap or the TV unnoticed as she stared blindly into space. Now wasn’t the time to force matters. Joyce let her grieve in peace. Fall would be soon enough to bring her back into the world.

Xander and Anya were settling into married life more or less successfully. As was probably easily predicted, their biggest issue was money. Xander’s suggestion that the get a joint bank account had sent Anya into an unreasoning panic that finally drove him into calling Joyce and Ethan to come try to calm her down. They had finally convinced her that Xander wasn’t trying to steal her independence and that maybe instead they could have three accounts, his, hers and theirs. She had agreed doubtfully, but relaxed when she saw the budget and the balance on her own account. It helped that shortly after, Xander got a promotion at work so that he was making almost as much as she was.

Joyce sighed again. At least Dawn was having a decent summer. She had been off with a different girlfriend on a family trip almost every weekend. This weekend she was touring wine country with Samantha and her mom. It was so hard to believe Dawn would be starting high school in the fall. She had been a baby just yesterday it seemed. Joyce didn’t think anymore about those memories being created. They brought her peace to remember, so she just accepted them. Even when they made her feel old.

“You’re moping again,” Ethan spoke, sliding his warm hands comfortingly over her shoulders.

She jumped slightly at his unexpected voice, twisting her neck to look up at him with a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t moping. I was paying bills.”

“Oh yes?” He stroked her cheek gently, tucking one stray curl behind her ear. “You seem to be paying bills a great deal these days.”

Quiet sadness made her turn back to the papers on her desk. “There are a lot of bills to be paid.”

He plucked the pen out of her grasp and took her hands, drawing her to her feet to wrap his arms around her. “You worry too much, my girl. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone. That’s your daughter’s job.”

“And my job is to take care of her, which means worrying about the things that affect her.”

“You’ve worried enough for now.” He bent his neck to nuzzle against her neck, sending familiar but welcome shivers down her back. “Let me take you away and distract you for a bit.”

It was so tempting. He felt so good in her arms, and just thinking about the ways he liked to distract her made her tremble. “I can’t,” she said reluctantly. “I have to get these paid, and I haven’t done the dishes yet. The refrigerator’s empty, so I have to go shopping, and there’s still the laundry—“

“Fine,” Ethan stopped the flow of her words with his fingers, replacing them with his mouth for a quick kiss. “I surrender. For now. Get all your chores and errands done today, though, because tomorrow I’m taking you away from her if I have to hogtie you to do it.”

Joyce couldn’t help but smile at his threat. “Where?”

“Hmm?” He was already fascinated by her neck again.

“Where are you going to take me?” Curiosity made her distract him from the object of his attention.

He looked up again. “What do you think about the beach?”

“I love the beach. But I wouldn’t think it was your favorite place.”

“I might surprise you.” He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth before pressing her back down into her chair. “Back to work,” he commanded with mock severity. “I’ll have no excuses from you in the morning.”

She watched him circle around her to cut through into the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

“Apparently,” Ethan’s voice drifted back to her, “I’m going to do the dishes.”

She toyed with her pen for a moment, thinking about that. Then she leaned back in her chair to call down the hall. “Can I take pictures?”

“Back to work, you,” he growled to cover his laugh.

Smiling, Joyce did as he ordered, looking forward to the next day with an anticipation she hadn’t felt in a long time.

 

 

Ethan pulled up in Rupert’s convertible at the surprisingly early hour of eight a.m., bearing coffee and muffins.

“Just let me get my bag together,” she greeted him with a quick kiss, turning to finish putting her earrings in.

“You look lovely,” he said admiringly as he closed the door behind him.

Joyce glanced at herself in the mirror. Her red floral tank suit emphasized her curves, the pink and white pareo knotted around her middle to delineate her waist and modestly cover the junction of her legs, swirling in loose silk around her calves. Her feet were barely protected by the thinnest of reed sandals, and she had a wide straw hat to shelter her eyes. The reflection showed him as well, looking oddly casual in a black t-shirt and gray slacks, leather huaraches on his otherwise bare feet. “You look pretty good yourself.”

“I aim to please.” He caught her arm as she bustled around, trying to get her things together. Drawing her close, Ethan wrapped his arms around her, catching her mouth in a slow, bone-melting kiss that drove everything from her head but the feel of his lips. She draped her arms around his neck, pressing against him to enjoy the feel of his hard planes through the sheer fabric of her swimsuit as their mouths slanted slowly back and forth over each other. When he finally lifted his head again, he smiled knowingly. “Good morning.”

“Mmm. Best morning I can think of that doesn’t involve waking up next to you.”

He chuckled. “Just my way of saying don’t rush. This is going to be a quiet, relaxing day, and I don’t want you starting it with your knickers in a twist.”

She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m not wearing any knickers.”

His grin took on a wicked cast as his hands coasted down her bare back to the lycra covering her behind. “I’d noticed,” he purred, giving her a squeeze. The, with a gentle spank, he stepped away. “Get your things. We’re losing daylight.”

Fishing around in her purse, she pulled out her wallet and keys only to deposit them into her beach bag, the last items she needed. Picking it up, she turned with a smile. “Ready.”

Ethan held the door for her. “After you.”

He was all gentlemanly attention as he escorted her to the car, opening the door for her and taking her bag. That was when he broke. “Good lord, Joyce! What have you go in this thing, bricks?”

She straightened her skirt demurely over her legs as she sat. “Just things I need at the beach. Sunscreen, a few books, my cd player and some disks. A couple of bottles of water. A hairbrush and a change of clothes.”

“So, just the essentials.” His tone was ironic as he slid the bag into the back seat and came around to the driver’s side.

Joyce grinned and slid her sunglasses on. “Precisely.”

Chuckling, he slid the key into the ignition and started the car, easing it out of the drive and onto Revello. He surprised her by heading onto the interstate. “But the beach is the other way.”

“Now,” he corrected, shifting smoothly up into fifth gear as his speed leveled out around seventy-five, “ _a_ beach is the other way. _My_ beach is this way.”

She couldn’t hold onto her hat at this speed with the top down, so she took it off and slid it into the back under the weight of her bag. “Your beach? You have your own private beach?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he eyed her, cutting sharply around a slower rental truck. “It will take a little while to get there, but I think you’ll find it’s worth it. I guarantee you won’t worry about anyone but yourself the entire time we’re there.”

They drove along in quiet companionship, occasionally making quiet small talk, but mostly just enjoying the drive and each other’s company. After a while, Ethan turned on the radio, dialing it down to a station near the bottom of the band that played an interesting mix of progressive music. It was something she could see the kids listening to, but wouldn’t have pegged it as his style. But then he was always surprising her.

As they neared the coast, Joyce began to fear that they were headed to Pismo Beach. It was too touristy for her there, although she wouldn’t ruin Ethan’s plans by complaining. But instead he turned off the 101 to go north and west, following smaller back roads. The scenery was lovely, populated with a few large houses on larger estates, making for large, park-like expanses between. Slowly the shoulder turned to sand, and suddenly the trees parted to reveal the broad expanse of brilliant blue ocean beyond the long line of cliff. The sky beyond was a paler blue, only a few wispy clouds streaking across the sky. “It’s so beautiful!” she gasped, taking it all in. “I’m so glad you thought of this.”

When he glanced over at her, she could see pleasure crinkling his eyes.

They followed the serpentine of the cliff line as it slowly declined down to the beach. At last, Ethan turned the car into an unobtrusive gated drive, following it back a few hundred yards to a broad, exposed parking lot. Many of the spaces were already taken, but he found a slot near the front and pulled in. Switching off the ignition, he turned to her. “Ready?”

She couldn’t have said what it was that warned her. He wasn’t behaving any differently than he had been all morning. But for some reason, her heart fluttered in her chest, an electric tingle pricking the back of her neck. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re up to something. What is it?”

Catching her hand in his own, he lifted her fingers to his mouth. “I told you already. I’m giving you a quiet, relaxing day where you don’t have to think about anything but yourself.”

He seemed sincere, but the prickle wouldn’t leave her. “I’m not sure I trust you.”

“I’m crushed.” Ethan kissed her knuckles again, his eyes twinkling playfully. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“It’s not lying that concerns me,” she replied, arching a brow at him knowingly.

He chuckled, reaching across her to open her door for her. “Time’s wasting.”

Ethan carried her bag and a hamper that promised a nice lunch, while Joyce carried the blanket and the small beach recliners, actually little more than braced chair backs to set in the sand for back support. She understood why he had teased her about her bag. As in most aspects of his life, Ethan was Spartan in his choice of beach gear. He didn’t seem to have even brought a towel.

He led her to a broad boardwalk blocked by an open kiosk. A muscular young man, dressed all in white with no apparent logos, stepped out to meet them. Without a word, Ethan set down his load to take out his wallet, handing the young man an ID card. The man studied it, compared the picture to Ethan and then handed it back. “Thank you, Mr. Rayne,” he said, his grim face suddenly transformed as he smiled. “You folks enjoy your day.”

“What was that all about?” Joyce asked when they were out of earshot.

“It’s a private club,” he explained. “They’re very careful about who can get in.”

“I never figured you for belonging to a club of any kind.”

He shrugged. “The amenities here are worth it.”

The boardwalk ended at a long, winding trail cutting through the dunes, beach grass and sea grass singing in the soft breeze. Nowhere were there offshoots cutting straight over the dune in a more direct route to the beach. It seemed to go on forever. “Do you think we’ll get there today?” she asked finally.

“Almost there.”

Sure enough, they crested one last rise and revealed the beach at last.

Joyce caught her breath. It was a beautiful place. The cliff they had followed coming down curled around the cove, rising steeply over the sapphire water. The beach itself was clean and even, the quartz sand reflecting amber in the bright sunshine. At the foot of the dune were changing rooms and a snack bar, clean and white and unobtrusive, set back as they were from the main beach. It was lovely.

But something seemed odd somehow.

She was halfway down the dune before she realized. On a beautiful, breezy day like this, Joyce had expected to see a lot of skin. But not this much. All up and down the beach, walking, swimming, sunbathing, were people in various states of undress, breasts and behinds and penises bared to Mother Nature.

Joyce froze in her tracks. “You brought me to a nude beach?”

“I did,” he said, stopping behind her.

“Ethan,” she whirled on him, her eyes wide in horror, “I can’t go to a nude beach.”

The amusement in his eyes wasn’t cruel. “It seems you can, since here you are.”

“Ethan, please.” She rested a hand on his arm in supplication. “I’m forty-five years old. I’ve had two children. Everything that isn’t sagging is stretched. I can’t go to a nude beach.”

Ethan set the bags down in the sand, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are a beautiful woman and have nothing to be ashamed of. No one here is going to judge you. You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Her heart was pounding now. “You don’t have a swimsuit on under those slacks, do you?”

His mouth curled in humor as he shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, god.” She tried to take a deep breath, but that only seemed to aggravate her nerves. “Oh, god, oh, god.”

Amusement turned to compassion. “We don’t have to stay if you aren’t comfortable,” he assured her. “But it seems a shame to waste such a beautiful day.”

Joyce looked back over the crowd. It looked like any beach she had ever been to. There were even families here, children playing in the sand without concern. And she realized not everyone was in the altogether. While most everyone was exposed to one extent or another, there were people here and there still in swimsuits and cover-ups. Was she becoming a prude with middle age? Were the girls right to think she was uptight?

Steeling herself, she looked up into Ethan’s eyes. “I’ll be alright. Let’s stay.”

She was startled when he bent his head for a gentle taste of her lips. “Your bravery continues to humble me.”

“Yeah, well,” she groused, trying to hide her blush, “let’s get down there before I chicken out.”

They made their way down the beach under their various burdens, looking for the spot that met Ethan’s approval. Joyce found herself watching her toes to avoid staring impolitely at the nakedness around her.

Ethan noticed and chuckled. “Would you like a blindfold, love?”

“Don’t tease me,” she said, her burning cheeks having nothing to do with the bright sun. “I’m playing along, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are,” he apologized, but she could still hear the amusement in his voice. “My brave girl.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

The place he settled on was a clear patch of sand situated between two groups of bathers, but not so close to them as to invade Joyce’s sense of privacy. Ethan helped her spread the blanket out, letting her set up the recliners as he arranged the hamper. She very methodically organized her space, laying out her book, lotion, sunglasses and the small CD player she carried. Sitting down, she carefully wiped the sand off her feet to avoid dragging it onto the blanket with her before she began fiddling with the CD player.

Motion on the edge of her vision caught her attention, making her look up at Ethan. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He had taken off the leather sandals, his long toes digging into the sand. The black t-shirt was in his hands as he carefully folded it, his lean torso bared to the bright sunshine. She had only ever seen him in artificial light, and the difference was striking. Skin normally ruddy turned a honey amber, not overly dark but healthy looking, the musculature highlighted by faint shadows normally obscured by multiple light sources.

When his hands went to the buckle on his belt, she looked away with a gasp.

He noticed. “You _are_ allowed to look at me, Joyce,” he said, the change in his pockets jingling as he continued undressing. “After all, I _am_ yours.”

She looked over, but couldn’t move her eyes beyond his toes. “It’s not that.”

He sprawled on the blanket next to her, catching her chin in his fingers to make her meet his eyes. “Are you ashamed of the way I look?” His smug expression told her he already knew her answer.

“No, of course not.”

“Then are you embarrassed to be seen admiring me?”

“It’s not that, either.”

“No?”

She dropped her eyes. “Well, alright, maybe it is. There are just so many people around!”

“Don’t worry, they all think I’m as devilishly handsome as you do.”

“Ethan.”

“Joyce,” he said in a more commanding tone than he ever used with her, “look around you. No one is paying any attention to what we do. They are all here to enjoy a day at the beach, paying us no more mind than you do to the people around you when you go sunbathing at home. As long as you don’t turn up your music too loud or try to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state, no one is even going to look at us twice.”

She glared at his smug innuendo, beginning to understand why he aggravated Rupert so much sometimes. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to ignore it and force herself to relax. “I’ll try.”

Smiling, Ethan settled himself down on his back, pillowing his head on his clothes, eyes closing as he relaxed. “I know I’m irresistible, but I have confidence in your abilities to suppress those urges.”

Joyce pushed her sunglasses up firmly. “I’m resisting some urges right now,” she griped.

His snigger didn’t help his case.

Plugging the CD player into the little speakers built into her bag, she put in a seventies mix the girls had burned for her, Crosby, Stills and Nash sounding tinny on the poor quality speakers. Settling back against her chair, she picked up her book and tried to read.

Her eyes kept drifting over to him. Ethan’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm that wasn’t quite sleep. He lay almost perfectly still, so unusual from his usual kinetic energy. She looked back to her book, but her eyes drifted back again, watching in fascination as his cock expanded slightly and then relaxed, randomly responding to the stimulation of the warm sun, the cool breeze and whatever thoughts were going through his head. She would have loved to know what he was thinking about.

Instead she asked, “Is the music alright?”

He didn’t open his eyes. “It’s fine. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “Rupert’s not crazy about it.”

“He wouldn’t be, would he? The man’s an impossible snob when it comes to music.” Cracking one eye open, he looked up at her. “Nice to hear not everything is perfect with the perfect couple.” His words were bland, as though covering up deeper feelings.

“We’re far from perfect,” she corrected, “and you know it.”

“Still.”

Well. That was an interesting insight. After all their time together, after the last few weeks where it had been just the two of them, and still he felt inferior to what she shared with Rupert. Now wasn’t the time to address it, but she filed it away. Obviously he needed a reminder of just how vital he was.

Joyce focused on her book, making it through two chapters before her attention wandered again. She couldn’t help but glance about at their neighbors. Her favorite thing about going to the beach was watching all the people, so, keeping herself in a posture of reading, she hid behind the anonymity of her sunglasses and looked around.

Ethan was right. For all of them, this was just a day at the beach. Another couple not far off were simply reclining in the sun, he doing a crossword while she napped, a heavy canvas hat over her face, incongruous considering she was wearing nothing else. Further up the beach were a group of college kids, the boys more naked than the girls, although most of the girls had lost their tops, the tiny thongs of their suit bottoms hardly adding to their modesty. But none of them even seemed aware of their nudity. Two of the boys were intent on the enormous sand castle they were constructing, paying no attention to the curvaceous young woman walking up from the water, wringing out her hair as she went. A heavy-set woman walked by, a sand bucket in one hand and her daughter’s hand in the other, both of them intent on the sand at their feet. While the little girl was modestly dressed, the woman was completely naked, with no concerns of how her heavy breasts swung when she moved or how the folds of her stomach layered over each other. Joyce was surprised to realize that the woman looked beautiful to her, not in spite of or because of the extra weight, but because of the confidence with which she carried it.

Joyce began to feel ridiculous. No one else was making a big deal about this, why was she? She struggled with her inhibitions, trying to reconcile her rational acceptance with the pounding of her heart. She had never exposed herself in public before, never mooned anyone, never streaked, had only ever even been skinny dipping once when she was twelve and had nothing to show yet.

She tried reading again, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words as her mind did war with her insecurities. Oh, what the hell. What did she have to lose?

Resting the book on her legs, never taking her eyes off the page, she slipped one arm and then the other out of the straps of her suit, pushing it down self-consciously to reveal her rib cage but no lower. Picking up the book again, she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, but they were all involved in their own activities and paid her no mind.

Feeling very daring, she settled back against her recliner with a small smile of satisfaction.

“I’d put sunscreen on those if I were you.”

Ethan’s voice made her jump, fumbling the book. She glared down at him, but he hadn’t moved, hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“A sunburn there would leave you very uncomfortable come tomorrow,” he continued conversationally, his eyes still closed.

She wanted to argue with him, but she knew he was right. The specter of trying to squeeze sunburnt breasts into any of her bras made her reach for the bottle of lotion she had brought with her. Squeezing a dollop into her hand, she swiped it quickly and self-consciously over her chest.

“Oh, that will never do.” Ethan rose to a sitting position, taking the bottle from her hand.

“I’m sorry I don’t meet with your approval,” she replied huffily as he read the label on the bottle.

Not looking up, he said, “I refuse to lose out on my favorite playthings because you are too shy to touch yourself in public.” Squirting some of the liquid into his hand, he added, “This isn’t strong enough, but it will have to do.”

She fought down a gasp as he laid his hands on her shoulders, smoothing the lotion into her skin evenly as he worked his way down. His touch was intimate yet clinical as he cupped each breast, carefully covering every inch of delicate skin around and beneath them before continuing on to her upper stomach. It was relaxing and erotic at once, and she was hard pressed to keep breathing.

He carefully rolled her swimsuit in on itself before turning her around to repeat his attention on her back with the same impersonal care he had used on her front, carefully covering her down to the small of her back without lowering the suit any further than she had, making sure he got around her sides as well, his touch firm enough to keep from tickling her. When he finished, he placed a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck. She watched as he wiped his hands on the blanket and swapped the CD for one of the jazz discs she had brought. Then he lay down on his stomach and closed his eyes again.

She just stared at him as her heart rate gradually slowed. It was hard to believe this was the same man she had been sleeping with for the last three years. Ethan was never one to pass up a chance for flirtation and sexual teasing. But here he was, drifting off to sleep in the warm sunshine without a word after having basically just felt her up in public. Had their relationship aged beyond his interest that he could be so casual with her?

Disturbed in more ways than one, Joyce settled back against her seat to try yet again to read.

She wasn’t sure how long it was before he finally rolled over and rose to his feet in one graceful motion. “I’m going to go in for a swim. Care to join me?” he asked, offering his hand.

Joyce looked up into his eyes, but read nothing suspicious there. She had to admit she was getting uncomfortably hot, and the sunscreen was starting to feel sticky and uncomfortable. “Sounds like fun,” she said, taking his hand and letting him help her stand. Untying the pareo, she dropped it down onto the blanket and followed him.

It wasn’t until she started walking that she realized how uncomfortable the suit bunched around her waist was. It wasn’t meant to be layered on itself like this, causing the lycra to bind girdle-tight around her, digging in everywhere uncomfortably. And she must look ridiculous, she was sure.

Drawing a deep breath, she caught her fingers in the fabric and quickly skinned it down, snapping it to unroll it before tossing it on top of her cover-up. Resisting the urge to cover herself, she ignored Ethan’s sly smile and walked down to the water’s edge.

There was no way the ocean was going to be anything but cold, so she sprinted the last few feet, taking three long strides into the water before diving in in a low, shallow arc, the frigid water taking her breath away. The bay got deep quickly here, so that when she surfaced, she was able to hide herself below the surface without being obvious about it. She turned just in time to see Ethan repeat her actions, his lean body cutting cleanly into the water. He surfaced a few feet later, three long strokes pulling him even with her. Rolling onto his back, he eyed her as his momentum drifted him past her. Then he turned back on his belly and began swimming further out.

Shaking her head, she pushed off and followed him.

It had been a long time since she had actually been swimming. Ever since the girls had been born, the closest she had gotten was standing calf deep in the water, watching them in trepidation while they took the ridiculous chances that all children do. But now she had no one to be responsible for but herself. She reached and pulled, drawing herself quickly along, enjoying the unusual stretch of the muscles in her arms and shoulders, the cool, softly abrasive salt water flowing around her naked limbs as she went. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.

A hundred feet out, he stopped and waited for her. “How does it feel?”

“Nice, now that I’m used to the cold.” She let herself sink, her toes just barely able to reach the bottom to anchor herself.

Ethan grinned. “Knowing your penchant for baths, I thought you might like this.”

He was treading water easily, and it took her a moment to realize that he was moving slightly away from her. Not overtly, just the barest drift to allow more space between them.

And suddenly she understood what was going on. It wasn’t disinterest that had made him distant before. Ethan Rayne was trying to be a gentleman.

The realization both touched her and pissed her off. Here she had been thinking he wasn’t afraid to challenge her and yet once again she was being coddled. She should have realized from his uncharacteristic behavior what he was up to.

Well, that was enough of that.

She sank beneath the water, twisting her body to come up behind him, letting her torso caress up along his backside as she surfaced. “Don’t shelter me, Ethan,” she murmured, her hands on his shoulders helping the buoyancy lift her up to his ear.

He craned to look at her over his shoulder. “Not sheltering. Just not pressuring. That’s not what today is about.”

“No. Today’s about having a good time.” A wicked thought blossomed in her head.

“Exactly.”

“Having fun.”

He twisted further, trying to see her better. “Precisely. What are you up to?” He sounded suspicious. As he should be.

“Just having fun.” And with that, Joyce reached down and pinched his ass.

“Why, you little . . .” Ethan spun, reaching for her, but she was already diving away, her squeal of glee muffled as she sank under the water. He grabbed her ankle and hauled her backward, but she twisted out of his grip and kicked away, gulping a mouthful of water as she screamed. She felt the water swell behind her as he dove in after her.

They played like children, laughing and screaming as they chased each other about. She used every trick and wile she could think of to splash, dunk and elude him, while he took advantage of his solid footing and long reach to grab hold of her and pull her under the water again and again. One such grab caught him a full handful of her backside, making her squeal in surprise as he just grinned wickedly. Rolling onto her back to escape his clutches, she flutter kicked hard, sending fountains of water splashing up and making him contort his face, still amused, to try to keep the water out of his eyes.

It was the most beautiful she had ever seen him.

Joyce wasn’t used to so much physical exertion, though, and as she grew more tired, it became harder and harder to evade Ethan until at last he caught her around the waist and pulled her against him.

He was still smiling when he lowered his head to sample her mouth. It was a gentle caress, slow and savoring, and she relaxed into it, her arms encircling his neck as she opened her mouth to him. The warm, mobile pressure of his lips, the delicate probing of his tongue and the feel of the water lapping against them was intoxicating and she lost herself in the sensations.

When he finally lifted his head, the smile had dimmed to the fine crow’s feet crinkling around his eyes, which were now dark and sultry but somehow very content looking. Lifting one hand, she indulged in one of her favorite pastimes, mapping out all the expressive creases in his face. “You don’t smile enough,” she commented sympathetically, enjoying the feel of their warm bodies bobbing faintly against one another in the cool water.

“I could say the same for you.” He softened the words with another quick kiss.

She eyed him playfully. “So you’re telling me I look old and tired, is that it?”

He glared at her, his arms closing tight around her. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and you bloody well know it.”

The blush was uncontrollable, making her drop her eyes. “I just like provoking you.” The banter always felt so right between them.

“You think I don’t know that? It’s one of the things I love about you.”

What had been a gentle flush now burned her cheeks. They hadn’t been admitting their feelings to each other long enough for his casual comment not to have an effect on her.

Before she could respond, her whole body suddenly shivered violently.

“Why do I think that wasn’t for me?” Sympathy colored his humor.

“I’m sorry. I think the cold water is finally catching up with me.”

“You go on back to the beach.” He gave her a light shove in the direction of shore. “Get warmed up.”

She tread water, looking at him. “Aren’t you coming?”

“You provoked a little more than you intended,” he said wryly. “I’m just going to swim for a bit until I can get out without making a spectacle of myself.”

Drifting on her back, she let her breasts rise up out of the water. “I could help you with that,” she teased.

“Go.” His voice was playfully stern as he pointed towards the beach. “Before I take you up on that.”

With one last impish grin, Joyce rolled back over and began swimming to shore.

Their play had done a lot to ease her inhibitions, so that when she reached the shallow water, she wasn’t shy about rising to her feet and walking out onto the strand. Instead of going up to the blanket, however, she turned and sat on the sand, her knees pulled up to her chest while the wavelets licked at her toes as she watched Ethan swim. He moved through the water with the same spare grace he had on land, not athletic but clean and precise. She became lost in the pattern of his strokes, the rhythm of the waves, the soft cry of seagulls and humans, almost failing to notice when he turned for shore.

The sight of him rising from the water, the sun making his damp skin gleam, his hair now in soft waves, was one she would long remember.

“You look like a mermaid sitting there,” he said when her reached her, smiling down at her.

“Nope.” She extended her legs and wiggled her toes. “See? Two feet.”

“Good news.” He reached down to take her hand, helping her to her feet. “Mermaids weren’t known for being kind to their lovers.”

Leaning against him, she grinned. “Afraid I’ll devour you whole?” His own expression became intense. “You did that long ago.”

Uncertain how to respond to that, she let Ethan escort her back to their blanket.

Joyce pulled out her towel and carefully dried off, while Ethan simply lay down on the blanket, letting the sun dry him effortlessly. But when she sat down and began reapplying her sunscreen, he sat up and plucked the bottle from her fingers. “You will not rob me of my newest pleasure. Lay down.”

This power he had to completely destroy her composure with such simple words was a mystery to her, but she refused to surrender to it easily. She lay down as he commanded. On her stomach.

She felt him hesitate, considering his next move. Then without comment, he laid his hands on her back, lightly applying the sunscreen as he went. His touch was relaxing, encouraging her to surrender to it.

“Your back still carries the story of all your summers,” he observed quietly, his hands shifting their focus. “Your suit last year came a little lower,” his fingers traced a line over her lower back, “and the year before that it had had straps.” He outlined an x between her shoulders where the bands had laid. “You wear them lower now, but not too long ago you wore a very daring high cut leg.” His fingers touched just above her hipbone and followed the high curve of the line he saw around and down over the slope of her behind.

When he slipped his hands under her and flipped her over, she gasped in surprise. “Let’s see what tales the front has to tell, shall we?” he said in low, seductive tones.

Joyce could barely breathe as he started again. He covered the skin thoroughly before going back without a word to scribe the lines of years of sunbathing over her breasts and hips. She recognized his expression, the dark, intimate concentration of the sorcerer at work, as though he were working more than just an erotic spell on her body. There were many times she had thought about sharing that aspect of his life with him. She had heard that sex magic was second only to blood magic for power, and she couldn’t help but wonder what the two of them could generate. Or the three of them.

His hand suddenly dragging through the coarse curls of her mound made her cry out in surprise and instant arousal. When she was finally able to open her eyes, Ethan was smiling down at her in false innocence. “We definitely don’t want that to get burned, do we?”

“You,” she said, struggling for breath, “are a very bad man.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her lightly. “I know.” He was unapologetic.

After that things were much more comfortable. They lay there in the sun, talking quietly about nothing important. He held her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles or his long fingers stroking hers. He spoke for the first time about his childhood, being raised by a distant uncle, and she was surprised to learn he had read physics at university before being lured away by magic and the counterculture. In return, she offered tales of growing up in Richmond and the fact that she had been planning to go into museum curation, before Hank and marriage took her down a different path.

They dozed quietly for a time before Ethan roused her for lunch. He had packed small roast beef sandwiches, tangy with horseradish, and fresh fruit that had steeped to infused sweetness in the warmth of the basket. She was surprised that instead of wine, he had brought simple apple juice, kept cool in a small refrigerated bag and so refreshing as it slaked her dry throat.

Afterwards, he seemed ready to return to sunbathing, but she was bored with sitting around. “Let’s go for a walk.”

He eyed her in surprise. “Certain you’re up to that?”

She stood up and wrapped the pareo around her hips, covering the salient parts. “Absolutely.”

Ethan didn’t move, his arm resting on one bent knee as he studied her in sultry approval. “God, but you’re gorgeous.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Reaching down, she took his hand and hauled him to his feet.

Grumbling good-naturedly, he let her draw him down to the water, never releasing her hand.

They walked south, following the curve of the crescent bay as the sand grew closer to the high cliff sheltering the water from the land. They didn’t talk much, content to just be in each other’s presence. Ethan slipped his arm around her waist, their strides slipping into comfortable rhythm as they walked. Occasionally Joyce would bend down to pick up a shell or a pretty stone and show him, only to drop it back onto the sand. It belonged there. It seemed a sin to remove it.

The sand and cliff came to a close point, and Ethan made her stop. “This is the end of the private beach. No telling who’s around the corner.”

“Sounds kind of like real life,” she said wistfully. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

He turned them about gently. “No need to worry about that yet. Let’s go back.”

When the got back into the vicinity of the blanket, he kissed her lightly and left her to go back to his sun worshipping while she continued down the beach the other way. All the nudity that had embarrassed her before was now commonplace, so Joyce indulged her penchant for people watching as she walked, working her way slowly down the strand past the changing rooms and snack bar until at last she came to a sign proclaiming the end of the private beach. With a sigh, she turned around and made her way back.

People were beginning to gather up their belongings as she passed them. It had a certain melancholy to it, the end of the day. But she refused to succumb to it, smiling and waving to anyone who met her eyes, taking the time to admire the remains left by those who had gone already, whether it was sand castles or canals or simply holes. Each told a story of the people who had been there that day, and would be gone with the rising tide to create a new canvas for those who came tomorrow.

Ethan was just coming out of the water as she got back to their spot. She couldn’t resist pausing to admire the flex of his behind as he walked up the soft sand. The man did have a very nice ass. He noticed her as she got closer and turned to meet her with a swift kiss. “There’s time for a quick dip before we have to go, if you like.”

It was too tempting to resist, so she untied her wrap and handed it to him, smiling at his appreciative look before returning to the water’s edge.

The water felt welcoming as it enfolded her, soothing skin overheated from the unfamiliar exposure to the sun. She didn’t go out so far this time, just deep enough so her feet didn’t hit bottom if she tried to tread. Then she just rolled onto her back and floated, letting the sea swells carry her where they would.

It had been a very good day. True to his word, Ethan had made certain she worried about no one but herself for the whole day by the simple act of shocking her into living in her own skin for a few hours. She felt a faint twinge of guilt for not thinking about the girls or Rupert the entire day, but she knew there was no need for it. None of them would begrudge her this respite. And she found to her surprise that she was ready to go back, her batteries recharged enough to face whatever came next. It was a good feeling.

When Joyce finally retuned to the beach, Ethan had packed up all their belongings, handing her her towel as she approached. “It’s almost four,” he explained apologetically, “so we should be going if we plan to get home at a reasonable time.”

“And you’re planning to drive home like that?” She looked pointedly at his still naked state as she ran the towel through her hair.

“No,” he answered in exaggerated patience, “I intend to take a shower first. I don’t relish the idea of spending an hour and a half trapped in a car seat with sand scratching at my intimate places.”

“Oh. That’s actually a good idea.”

“I do have those on occasion.” He tried to sound wounded, but his humor betrayed him.

“Yes, you do.” She smiled, amused by his dramatics. Curling her arms around his neck, she toyed with the soft waves at the nape. “You have some very good ideas. Thank you for today.”

His warm hands settled on the bare skin of her waist. “It was my pleasure. In more ways than one.”

“Still. Thank you.”

She kissed him then, soft but open-mouthed, slow and grateful. His hands came up to thread into her damp hair, tightening as he deepened the caress, slanting his mouth hungrily over hers. A soft growl and a tremor in his arm told her he wanted to do more, and a part of her was certain she would let him. But he pulled away, stepping back away from her as he tasted his lips. “Yes, we should definitely get home. Quickly.”

Joyce carried her own bag this time as well as the blanket while Ethan managed the chairs and the hamper, depositing everything on one of the available benches when they reached the bathhouse. She set her things down next to them, eyeing the outdoor shower with some trepidation.

“Don’t worry,” Ethan chuckled, “that’s just for rinsing off. There are real, hot showers inside. I’ll meet you back here in a bit?”

With a quick kiss, he left her there to dig through her bag, looking for what she needed. Ethan had just tossed her belongings in helter skelter, confounding the orderly system she’d had. Joyce found her hairbrush, but she was certain there was a small bottle of two-in-one shampoo in there somewhere . . .

Movement from the door to the men’s showers caught her eye, and she glanced up to see an unfamiliar man coming out, looking odd to her in his jeans and t-shirt. But then a wicked thought came to her. She glanced around. There were very few people still around. And Ethan certainly wouldn’t be expecting it. Maybe it was time to give him a dose of his own medicine.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she made for the door, checking around carefully to be sure she wasn’t seen. She stepped in, peering around the corner. The place seemed to be deserted, the line of sinks all standing unused, the toilet stall doors all open. Beyond them she heard water running and followed the sound.

She came around the corner of the shower room just in time to see Ethan’s long leg follow the rest of his body into a shower stall, pulling the curtain closed behind him. It amused her that showers at a nude beach had curtains, but she supposed it was more to control the water than for privacy.

Setting her bag down on the bench next to his folded clothing, she took one last cautious glance around and stepped into the shower with him.

He turned in surprise, his eyes darkening at the sight of her. “And what do you think you’re doing, young lady?”

Joyce stepped under the water, making certain to rub up against Ethan repeatedly as she rinsed through her hair. “Taking a shower.”

“Taking my shower, you mean.”

“Do you mind?” She looked up at him innocently.

In answer, he turned her to face the spray, drawing her back against his chest. Reaching for a dispenser built into the wall, he squirted pale pink soap into his hand and began washing her, just as gently and considerately as he had applied her suntan lotion all day, but this time with an erotic undercurrent that couldn’t be denied. His hands stroked down the length of her neck and over her shoulders, slowly working down to cup her breasts. There was nothing professional in his touch now, his hands intimate as they slicked in frictionless strokes over the heavy flesh, fingers tweaking her sensitive nipples to send electric shocks straight to her groin. Tempted as she was to lean back and let him have his way, she wanted to reward him for all his efforts of the day. She was still close enough to reach the soap without stretching, filling her palm with the thick liquid and rubbing her hands together before turning in his arms.

Ethan closed his eyes with a heady sigh as she began washing him in return, but his hands never stopped moving. He was always so receptive to her touch, as though nothing else mattered to him. It made her all the more attentive as she worked over his shoulders and chest, cupping his pectorals in mimicry of the way he held her breasts.

Eyes dark, he drew her closer, the firmness of his erection pressing into the crease of her thigh as his hands moved around her and down over her back. She gasped as long, soapy fingers slipped between the swells of her ass, gliding up and down the length of it as the water sluiced through. “Wouldn’t want any sand to be lodged here,” he said, his voice thick with promise, his touch anything but considerate, probing her in wicked ways that made her gasp.

Determined not to be outdone, she reached between them, leaning forward enough to slip her hand between his legs and up into the crease of his own behind. “You’re right, that would be uncomfortable.”

“Joyce,” he groaned softly, and she knew she had him.

Letting her hand move forward, Joyce worked her fingers gently around the tender flesh of Ethan’s sac. “I would imagine sand here wouldn’t feel so good either. Or here.” She let her soap-slick hand close around his shaft to pump effortlessly, the lubrication of the soap removing all resistance.

Ethan’s head tipped back as he groaned his pleasure, his own hand already finding its way between her legs, fingering intently through her wet, swollen labia. “No sand here,” he affirmed.

“Oh god!” His intimate touch released all the pent-up arousal she had been carrying within her all day long, her eyes watering with the overwhelming need she felt for him in that instant.

Ethan seemed to feel it, too, pressing into her to back her against the tiles. He backed off enough to let the water sluice between them, rinsing the irritant of the soap off his cock, before pressing in again, demanding entrance. “All day I’ve been wanting to do this to you. Was going to get you home and see to you in a proper bed.”

“Beds are over-rated.” She spread her knees, inviting him in. They moved together, and suddenly he thrust into her, filling her in one ecstatic motion.

They both cried out at the joining. Joyce clutched Ethan’s arms as he buried his face in her shoulder, immobile for long moments as she felt him fight for control. “Please,” she begged, “please move. I need it, Ethan, please.”

“You are incredibly demanding,” he replied hoarsely, but already his hips had begun rocking against her, the primal slide of cock and cunt beginning its quick climb to crescendo. “God, you feel good,” he whispered in awe. “Rupert’s right. Making love to you is like worshipping a goddess.”

He was moving faster now, the force of his thrusts raising her up off her heels, slapping her backside against the tiles, the sound echoing in the small cubicle.

Somewhere down the row, water started in one of the other stalls.

They both froze, Joyce’s heart suddenly pounding in a different and less pleasant way. But she couldn’t stop, not when he was still hot and hard within her, not when she could feel their orgasms so close now. She brought one leg up to wrap around the back of his, encouraging him on. “Don’t stop,” she whispered against his ear.

With a groan of relief, Ethan began moving again, pressing his lips against her ear. “I don’t think I could have even if I had wanted to. Too good, too close.”

The water cascaded over them as he quickly returned to his previous rhythm, the added layer of risk elevating her response. She kept her cries down to mere whimpers, but delivered these straight into his ear to electric effect.

Taking her thighs in his hands, he pinned her harder to the wall as he lifted both her legs up to wrap around his waist. Joyce wrapped her arms around his neck for added support as he began pistoning into her, driving louder moans of pleasure from her that he caught in his own mouth. Reaching up to grab the shower head, she used the leverage to ride him even faster until she pushed him over the edge.

With a muffled shout, he buried his face in her shoulder, his hips jerking erratically as she felt the pulses of his release within her. He seemed to know how close she was, slipping his hand between them to gently finger her clit, whispering in her ear, “You, too. I want you to come, too.”

The wall of need pressing against the back of her eyes swelled and finally burst, sending her careening into orgasm with a scream that would have given them away if Ethan hadn’t managed to slap a hand over her mouth.

The muzzle turned into a caress when she sagged against him, now spent. They just held each other under the warm water for long moments, murmuring soft nothings to each other and touching each other gently, letting the water rinse away the remnants of their coupling. It felt so good and so comforting that she didn’t want to leave.

“We can come back,” he said quietly, reading her thoughts.

“I’d like that.” She smiled up at him. “We should bring Rupert sometime.”

Chuckling softly, he gathered her into a reassuring embrace. “I don’t know. His head might explode.”

She rested her cheek against his chest, enjoying the shelter of his arms. “It would be good for him. He worries too much . . .”


End file.
